Life in the Fast Lane: A BBW Erotic Novella (Western Romance, Billionaire Cowboy, Curvy Girls) (8 page)

With this last thought I glanced back over at the mansion; the large, stone-built edifice that dominated the ranch. I looked up towards a large glass façade on the third floor of the mansion. For a second, it seemed as if I could just make out Lane’s figure against the glass of the window. Was that the office? It was too far away and I was too unfamiliar with the property to tell. But I stood there a moment longer looking upwards, trying to make him out behind the plates of glass.

I imagined him up there with a glass of bourbon, looking out on the little empire he’d built up around himself.
Was he looking down at me, his eyes drifting over my body, wishing he had me up there again, naked and all to himself?
I held my eyes there for a moment longer before looking away and turning my attention back to my work.

When would I see him again?
I really had no way of knowing, no way of communicating with him. Our relationship was still a secret, and for good reason. Who knew what people might say if they found out? But it still left me feeling at a loss. I guess he’d come back to me when he wanted to. I’d just have to wait for him.

Lane stepped off of his private jet and onto the windy tarmac in Omaha. A black Bentley Arnage was waiting for him, the personal car of Louis Caldwell III, the CEO of North Oil of Omaha. It was a gesture of friendship and good faith, one that Lane appreciated.

In the soft leather of the back seat of the car, he found a bottle of 21-year old scotch and a tumbler engraved with the logo of North Oil. Lane smiled to himself. This was a partnership that he felt confident in. Caldwell was a good man and a ruthless businessman. Together they would make more money than either had ever dreamed of.

As he rode to North Oil’s headquarters, Lane sipped a glass of the scotch. Once there, he’d sign his portion of the document and they’d all head to dinner, something lavish and celebratory.

But truthfully, he didn’t feel like celebrating much anymore. It wasn’t that he was unhappy or that he had misgivings about the deal. He just didn’t like the turn these things usually took: long hours of drinking followed by strip clubs and a wanton display of affluence. That life just didn’t interest him tonight. He planned to enjoy dinner and then make up an excuse to leave, catching a flight on his jet back to Houston. Could he really help it if he wanted to get back to his ranch that badly? But truthfully it wasn’t the ranch, but the girl he’d left behind that he wanted to see so much.

He finished off his glass of scotch and went to pour himself another. Then he thought better of it. He could hold his liquor, but he didn’t want to drink too much; he didn’t want to be distracted. Drinking made him think of Adelaide. Her touch, and her relentless sexiness, the smooth, soft wetness of her pussy. He felt his cock jump in his dress pants, throbbing with thoughts of her and her wild curves.

Calm down, Lane
, he told himself. But he was feeling excited. It’d been so long since he’d felt like this about anyone. He leaned back in the leather seat and closed his eyes, trying to picture her back in the soft light that streamed in through his office windows, imagining the clothes sliding off her voluptuous body, the fabric disappearing only to reveal a landscape of curves and supple skin he was desperate to explore.

He felt his cock jump again and groaned. There were so many hours between now and when he’d see her again. He’d find a way to make it through, he knew that. But still, he wished he could at least speak to her. They’d made love twice, rough but still sensual, passionate to the extreme. And yet he didn’t even have her phone number.

He laughed to himself about that. Maybe this was just how things were when you rushed right in. In his time away, he felt his hesitation disappearing. All of Don’s admonishments and warnings to stay away from Adelaide were falling on deaf ears. Lane didn’t give a damn what he was risking, he wanted that curvy girl in his life—and in his bed.

He checked the time on his phone: 6:47 PM. The driver was pulling up in front of the North Oil headquarters in downtown Omaha. He recognized it well, having been there so many times before, enduring numerous heated negotiations between both executive teams, trying to hammer out a price, a workable structure for integrating their two companies.

Lane loved business, but sometimes he wondered if it didn’t make sense to retire and move on to the next stage of his life.
Retire. Ha!
He was in his early thirties.
But was it really that crazy of an idea?
He’d done more than he’d ever dreamed he could accomplish; he had more money than he could possibly spend.
Wasn’t it time to concentrate on something else, to open up his life to new and exciting challenges?

Maybe he was crazy to even be thinking these thoughts, but something inside Lane told him that he was about to face a turning point in his life.

But his mental musings were soon interrupted by the door of the car being opened. The driver looked in at him as he lounged against the opposite door.

“Can I leave this in here?” asked Lane, pointing to the opened bottle of scotch.

“Of course, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Lane got out and pulled a crisp hundred dollar bill out of his wallet to tip the driver.

“Do you have a number so I can make arrangements for getting back to the airport?”

“Mr. Caldwell can arrange anything you need, sir,” said the man.

“Of course. Thanks again.”

As the Bentley sped off, Lane walked confidently into the building. The woman at the front desk knew immediately who he was and led him over to the executive elevator that whisked him up to the top floor headquarters of North Oil.

He stood silently in the elevator, smiling to himself. He was about add another half billion to his fortune. Between that and a good glass of scotch, he was feeling pretty damn good.

I walked into my little cottage around 10:30 PM. It had been a long day, but a highly productive one. I was starving, but barely had enough energy to open a bottle of beer.

I kicked back, lounging on the couch, turning on the television and surfing through the channels. I was flipping past one of the news stations when something caught my eye. Going back one channel, I saw a big banner flashing across the screen announcing the acquisition of North Oil. The camera zoomed in as Lane shook hands with a man in a designer suit, both of them smiling artificially at the camera.

Shaking my head, I took another sip of my beer. Never in my life had I been with someone like this, someone so
big—
in every sense of the word. To me, Lane seemed larger than life.

The reporter on the TV screen announced that the deal would nearly double the size of Lane’s company. The former CEO of North Oil would become the director of Midwest operations and Lane would become the CEO of the newly merged company. Both men had added sizeable amounts to their personal fortunes with this record-breaking merger.

But I figured this also meant I wouldn’t be seeing Lane any time soon. The television footage looked like it was from a few hours ago, but all the same, there was no way he’d be making it back from Omaha tonight.

I sighed to myself, slightly disappointed. I’d hoped to see Lane again, but I knew he was a busy man. This sort of thing was to be expected. Besides, I was dead tired; a good night’s sleep was exactly the thing I needed tonight. I could see Lane when he came back to the ranch, whenever that was.

Lane stood there smiling as he shook the hand of Louis Caldwell. Cameras flashed, but he didn’t blink. It was a photo op, a necessary evil forced on him by his PR team. The documents of the merger had been signed an hour ago, but this little event was their way of announcing the deal to the larger business community.

But the entire time, despite the celebratory atmosphere, he was counting the seconds until he could politely excuse himself. He groaned internally, his face still forced into a big smile. He was hours away from any escape; there was still dinner and drinks to attend to, hours of eating and toasting to continued success in the oil business. What he wouldn’t have given to escape the cameras in that instant!

Soon the flashes subsided and he was shepherded into a limousine with the other executives, heading off to the best steakhouse in Omaha. Caldwell opened a bottle of Dom Perignon and poured everyone a glass. Lane turned to Phil Boyd and lifted his glass in a cheers.

“You made this happen, buddy,” he said as their glasses clinked.

“Don’t sell yourself short. They wouldn’t be doing this deal without your credibility backing it up,” said Phil.

They both sipped their drinks and soon the conversation turned to sports. Baseball mainly. It was pleasant enough, Lane figured. He could handle this for a few hours. No need to rush things and get his new business relationship off on the wrong foot.

The limo zipped through the streets on the way to the steakhouse. Talk shifted to the after-party, and Louis Caldwell was talking about a new strip club that had opened up in Omaha. For the right price, the women in there would give you the time of your life, he claimed.

But Lane couldn’t believe that for one second, not when he’d just had a girl like Adelaide. He smiled to himself. Somehow it was Adelaide—more than his money or exceptional business acumen—that put him beyond all the other men who surrounded him in the limo. They all seemed too narrow and provincial. There was something so damned cliché about businessmen having a lavish dinner, boozing up, and heading to a strip club. Maybe when he was younger that was alright, but tonight he wanted no part in it.

Somehow he felt himself moving on internally, wondering what the next stage of life had in store for him.

“Yes, yes,
yes
,” I moaned, touching myself as I lay alone in bed.

I was so damn close, but reluctant for it to end. I bucked and gyrated and then suddenly found myself climaxing, rolling over and pressing my face into the pillow with thoughts of Lane still in my head.

I sighed and closed my eyes, pulling the covers up around me.
Now
I could go to sleep. But still I was tossing and turning, sleeping uneasily. Whenever I woke up, I reached over, hoping to find Lane’s muscular body sleeping there beside me.